Some people you are friends with because they live on your street, others it's because they are in your class or you're both in soccer, while some you are just friends with forever. Like you and me.
Our moms were best friends. They went to high school and college together. They got married around the same time and moved to the same street and had you and me a month apart. So from the very beginning we were in each others lives. Through birthday parties, pet deaths, divorces and drivers licenses we've always been there for each other.
People used to say to us that we were probably gonna get married one day. We must've heard that a thousand times growing up. I remember the first time someone said that to me; it was our Kindergarten teacher Miss Robertson. You were being a jerk to me, a trait you always carried with you through life but I loved you for, and I hit you with my toy. She pulled me aside and said "Now Cara, you know not to hit. Be nice to Daryll-" she paused and smiled "you two are probably gonna get married one day." I thought she was crazy, you and me?
I couldn't see it, you couldn't see it, but everyone else could see it. During middle school the girls in my class used to tease us saying we were dating. You shrugged it off and didn't let it bother you, but I on the other hand wanted desperately to be in their clique. The only problem was you, so after a night of crying I decided I had enough. The next day at school I ignored you and wouldn't talk to you in class more than I had to. After a week or so the other girls noticed something was up and asked me about it. I took this opportunity to spread some gossip, showing that I was clearly not into you. We were only 10 so the gossip was petty stuff, but it still hurt you.
I was in my tree fort when you came over to confront me on my current behavior. I started crying saying that I hated how the girls were constantly teasing me, and I wanted to fit in and the only way to do that was to ditch you. You hugged me and said you understood, that you too weren't particularly fond of the teasing either. You understood that I was more sensitive to that stuff and you did the one thing you have always hated doing. You forgave me. "The kids in our class are just jealous because they know that you and I are real friends while they are all fake friends to each other." you said in a rare but sweet moment of sensitivity. "And besides I'm gonna be a rock star one day, and they are all gonna regret what they are doing. So consider yourself lucky, you're best friends with a rock star in the making!" you smiled, your cockiness shining through.
The next few years went without a hitch in our friendship. Slowly you taught me to ignore the comments and you were still there for the occasional breakdown.
Then in Grade 9 Andrea came along, and for the first time I wasn't your number one friend. In fact I barely existed as far as you were concerned. You were infatuated with her, boy were you ever. You spent all the time you could with her, and I saw less and less of you, until it got to the point where you became another face in the hall. I was so confused at that time. I was happy for you, but at the same time I was angry, sad, and jealous but most of all hurt. So in a moment of weakness I consulted my soon to be older step sister Becky on the situation. "You obviously like him." she said matter of factly. I rolled my eyes and got up and left, I had heard these comments for years, and I was wrong to think that maybe this would be different.
You had a lot of firsts with Andrea. She was your first real kiss, none of that spin the bottle stuff, she was who you smoked up with the first time, joy riding and sneaking out. She was also the girl you first did it with. I remember when you told me. It was the first time in over a month that you actually went out of your way to see me. I was sitting at the lunch table and you came over and stood there with a stupid grin on your face, and I just knew.
Along with all those things she was also your first heartbreak. I found out from one of the only people you actually kept in touch with while you were dating Andrea, a boy named Shane. At first I was secretly happy, I was finally going to get you back. I really had missed hanging out with you and listening to you play your guitar or watching endless hours of TV. But you were devastated; she had been cheating on you with that jock guy who liked to throw you around. You holed yourself away in your room for a long time. Occasionally you would call me at 1 in the morning, drunk or stoned out of your mind wanting to talk about what Andrea did. Despite the fact that you and I had lost contact for a few months, I was still there for you through it all, because we were always there for each other no matter what.
When Grade 10 came around you made your way out of your shell and started dating again, it was never for long though. You would either question me endlessly to find out if they were cheating or you would dump them for no reason. Well none that you wanted to admit to, but I knew that you were terrified of being hurt again. You had learned that lesson and you weren't going to forget it.
At this point I still hadn't had a boyfriend. It wasn't that guys were interested in me, there were a couple guys who were and I thought they were cute, but there was just something. "They aren't Daryll." my friend Sarah said to me after a particular ranting session. I rolled my eyes and muttered "Whatever." I was in no mood to argue that you and I were just best friends, and that's all it would ever be. The following week I started dating a guy names Aaron, hoping to ignore or forget what was beginning to become painfully obvious.
The next few years were great, you and I got back into our old ways. But the summer after grade 12 changed everything. My mom died in a car accident, and for the first time I had to face devastation by myself because you were in LA for the summer with your dad. After my mom died I went to live with my dad who decided it would be best to move to upstate New York. I sank into depression while I was there. I stopped eating, talking, listening to music, keeping in contact with friends, including you and basically just living. Everyone ignored my deterioration, writing it off as me coping with my moms death. That was all except for Becky who I have to thank for saving me. She fought tooth and nail with my dad to send me back. After a month he finally agreed.
It was your birthday the day I moved in with you and your mom. When you picked me up from the train station, you gave me a big hug and my heart skipped a beat. I then realized what everyone had been telling me all along. I really did like you.
That night you and I stayed up late talking about our summer and you told me about college. You had met a girl and been together for two months and you really liked her. I took it in stride though, not letting it get to me. I knew you, soon enough you were start panicking thinking she was cheating on you and you would dump her. Then I could make my move and we could talk about possibly being together. So I decided to wait it out.
Well it's been five years and your still with her. After awhile I slowly started to let go of the idea of you and me. I haven't let go of it completely though, I just can't. I want to so badly, do I ever. Whenever I see you holding her hand or kissing her, my heart sinks a little more. Every day is a struggle knowing that you are with her, and every time you two are together it's a battle to keep smiling and laughing. But today is the worst day yet, because today you are getting married. When you told me that you were going to ask her to marry you I hugged you and said that it was great and that you two were perfect for each other, but I cried that night. Why did it take me so damn long to realize that I liked you? Why couldn't I have seen it earlier? Why?
So today when I'm standing up at the front, only feet from you because I'm a bridesmaid, all I can do is pray that I don't break down in tears. Because there are only so many happy tears I can fake before everyone realizes what I'm actually crying about. That it should be me up there saying I do.
Because that's how it was supposed to be, just you and me.